Light and Silence

That is a difficult point in Quaker-theology. I liked it up to the point As it grew, it gradually sanctified the believer. That sort of states the experiences I have made and heard from many believers more mature than myself. But reading the following I started to wonder: Are Friends attempting to save themselves? It must be freakingly uncomfortable to fall seriously ill as a Quaker and wonder whether one has already been sanctified enough to make it to heaven...

I agree that sanctification and justification are tied together: If justification through Christ doesn't lead to a gradual sanctification (slow at it might be) I'd start to doubt whether the justification really had happened at all. Thus I'd go with Gurney and take the sanctification as a sign of justification and not as a condition.

My wonderful Presbyterian girlfriend writes:

But reading the following I started to wonder: Are Friends attempting to save themselves?

No, definitely not - at least not in my opinion or what I see as early Friends' opinion. Sanctification, and salvation, come from the Spirit, the Light, not the believer themselves. I'd argue that it means explicitly putting aside one's self for God, and following God more and more closely.

I see it as very much connected with Paul's struggles in Romans, especially the relationship he describes in chapter 8, which I'll be writing another entry on shortly. Paul speaks better to this than I can.

It must be freakingly uncomfortable to fall seriously ill as a Quaker and wonder whether one has already been sanctified enough to make it to heaven...

I don't think it's much more uncomfortable than it is for anyone else. Death means the end of striving, and placing oneself in God's hands alone. Quakers may focus less on certainty, but the focus on a relationship with God should make us comfortable about stepping toward his judgment.

George Fox may provide an example, saying after his last Meeting that "I am glad I was here. Now I am clear, fully clear."

Fox, of course, was frequently more certain of things than his followers, myself included, have been.

(It's probably also worth noting that Quakers haven't spent, so far as I have found, huge effort in describing precisely how salvation works. The Light fills people according to their measure, and there's no expectation that perfection is necessary, though some thought that it's at least temporarily possible. Of course, it's up to God's judgment, not ours!)

Quakers may focus less on certainty, but the focus on a relationship with God should make us comfortable about stepping toward his judgment.

I always assumed that justification is crucial to have a relationship with God in the first place. Isn't sin what separates us from God - and God forgiving the sin is what makes us just? Thus justification would be God's act to remove the obstacles enabling a God-human relationship. - And sanctification would happen as we change once we get to know God better. (We seem to agree on that one.)

What sounds so odd to me about the notion of gradual justification is, that it would imply God would forgive at a given time only parts of our sins and thus enabling only a partial relationship. - Or does 'justification' mean something else than I understand it to mean?

I always assumed that justification is crucial to have a relationship with God in the first place. Isn't sin what separates us from God - and God forgiving the sin is what makes us just? Thus justification would be God's act to remove the obstacles enabling a God-human relationship.

That approach fits with what Quakers call convincement, but that convincement by itself isn't salvation. Rather, it's a realization of the burden of sin, and recognition of the need for God's help to relieve it as well as God's ability to forgive it.

(I think all of the Christian churches take that relationship as a starting point; the hard question is whether establishing that relationship is actually salvation or the first step toward salvation.)

In Hamm's description, this would be recognizing the Light and starting to nurture it, rather than our own desires, and letting it overcome our carnal ways.

And sanctification would happen as we change once we get to know God better. (We seem to agree on that one.)

In (my) Quaker terms, it's less us changing ourselves than our listening to God and letting God act through us. I don't think we're too far apart on that one, though.

What sounds so odd to me about the notion of gradual justification is, that it would imply God would forgive at a given time only parts of our sins and thus enabling only a partial relationship.

God's forgiveness is always there - but it seems that how that forgiveness is seen to be applied differs.

The questions about "what happens if you're saved and backslide and saved and backslide and saved..." seem to assume that forgiveness is granted at a stroke, instantaneously, and those kinds of questions are less problematic if justification is an introduction to God's ways, the first step on a long path.

Or does 'justification' mean something else than I understand it to mean?

It has meant very different things to different groups. For an overview, grossly over-simplified but concise, explore:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Justification_%28theology%29

The Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches also have gradual approaches, which is a large part of why Quakers were accused of being 'Papists' in the 1600s. The Orthodox take it furthest, I think, with theosis:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theosis

I'll be writing more on this over time, and maybe I can at least clarify how different groups believe some of this works - or doesn't. My own views are becoming clearer, well, gradually.

Hi, Simon!

I find myself enjoying your postings here a great deal; your interests are running parallel to my own.

You quote Thomas Hamm's statement, "...Gurney, like many contemporary non-Quaker evangelicals, argued that Friends had this wrong." You then write of your own exploration of Gurney's writings, "I can't find any explicit disapproval of the Quaker position...."

As far as I know, there's no place anywhere in Joseph John Gurney's writings where he ever said outright, "I disagree with Friends on such-and-so." Rather, he seems to have simply presented his opinions as if, naturally, of course, these are the truth of how things are.

Gurney had a winning personality and a lucid writing style, and the positions he took, when they were not the historical Quaker positions, were consensus positions in the larger mainstream Protestant world. And so, even when he departed from the historical Quaker line, whatever he said was so comfortable and familiar-sounding that it wasn't likely to occur to any of his non-scholarly readers that what he was saying was not an established Quaker position.

Thus, when John Wilbur read Gurney's writings and found a long list of points where Gurney departed in significant ways from historical Quakerism, Wilbur actually had to write and circulate a series of letters and essays pointing out those departures to other Friends, before most other Friends could see them!

I've found it a fascinating experience myself, first reading Gurney's writings and being carried right along by his agreeable voice, and then reading Wilbur's letters and essays and realizing, with something of a shock, how Gurney had taken me away from the original Quaker vision. And then having to sit down and decide for myself, just as Wilbur's original readers had to do, whether I agreed with Gurney or with the original Quaker position.

I'm a member of an evangelcial Friends church and wholeheartedly agree with Gurney that in justification God imputes us with Christ's righteousness. Although Fox didn't write a systematic theology, this concept seems in-line with the shart distinction he made between law and gospel in his journal. In this regard, Fox almost sounds Lutheran at times.